


Everything Now

by starg1rl



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Forbidden Romance, Gay Cats, LGBT Cats (Warriors), Multi, RiverClan (Warriors), ShadowClan (Warriors), Slow Burn, ThunderClan (Warriors), WindClan (Warriors), idk i guess im a bit of a furry, they're cats ok
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-04 18:04:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20475281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starg1rl/pseuds/starg1rl
Summary: After a deadly bout of blackcough leaves ThunderClan with more apprentices than warriors, the apprentices are left to pick up the pieces. Follow Deerpaw, Birchpaw, and Pearpaw as they struggle with grief, growing up and the code that binds them together. Warrior Cats AU.





	1. allegiances

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in the lake territories but I haven't kept up with the books there's no SkyClan, oops. My first AO3 fic.

THUNDERCLAN

DEPUTY 

SCREECHFUR  
Dark brown tabby she-cat with yellow eyes

MEDICINE CAT 

REDTHISTLE  
Wiry ginger tom  
APPRENTICE, Deerpaw

WARRIORS 

DAWNWHISKER  
Pale ginger and white tabby she-cat

PEBBLESTRIPE  
Mottled gray tabby tom

APPLEFOOT  
Black and white she-cat with amber eyes

FERNBLOSSOM  
Tawny she-cat

APPRENTICES 

DEERPAW  
Light brown tabby tom flecked with white, training to be a medicine cat

BRIARPAW  
Brown and white tortoiseshell she-cat

BIRCHPAW  
Black and white tom with amber eyes

LILYPAW  
White she-cat with a black tail and green eyes

MOSSPAW  
White tom with gray patches and green eyes

QUEENS 

ASPENLEAF  
Golden furred she-cat, mother of Pebblestripe’s kits: Darkkit and Plumkit

RUSHPOPPY  
Dark gray tabby she-cat, mother of Amberstar’s kits: Sedgekit, Ivykit and Dapplekit 

ELDERS 

MOLEHEART  
Dark tabby tom with a grey muzzle

SPRINGWILLOW  
White she-cat

SHADOWCLAN

LEADER 

FOXSTAR  
Red and black tortoiseshell tom

DEPUTY 

OAKSLIP  
Broad-shouldered dark red tabby tom

MEDICINE CAT 

PEBBLEBELLY  
Light gray tabby she-cat  
APPRENTICE, Birdpaw

WARRIORS 

SHADESTRIKE  
Dark gray she-cat with barely visible stripes  
APPRENTICE, Frogpaw

FLYPELT  
Long-legged pale grey tabby tom

PINECLOUD  
Fluffy golden and white she-cat 

EMBEREYE  
Large black tom with one amber eye and one blue eye

REDBLOSSOM  
Ginger tabby she-cat with yellow eyes

POUNCECLAW  
Dark brown tabby tom  
APPRENTICE, Goldenpaw

LITTLETAIL  
Small grey and white tom

DUSTFLASH  
Sandy gray tom with a white-tipped tail

THISTLEFLOWER  
Pale tortoiseshell she-cat with yellow eyes  
APPRENTICE, Spiderpaw

SNOWSPOT  
White tom flecked with black

APPRENTICES 

GOLDENPAW  
Golden tabby she-cat 

SPIDERPAW  
Pale gray tom with a black striped face

FROGPAW  
Pale gray tabby tom

PUDDLEPAW (puddlecloud)  
Dappled brown and white she-cat

BIRDPAW  
Dark red and white she-cat, training to be a medicine cat

QUEENS 

NIGHTSTEP  
Black she-cat, pregnant with Oakslip's kits

ELDERS 

MUDFACE  
Dark brown tom

CURLTAIL  
Very old tabby she-cat

RIVERCLAN

LEADER 

BEECHSTAR  
Pale grayish brown she-cat with a distinctive red nose

DEPUTY 

RABBITLEAP  
Dark gray and black tom with a striped tail  
APPRENTICE, Twistpaw

MEDICINE CAT 

Havenheart  
Silver tabby she-cat

WARRIORS 

SOOTSTEM  
Very dark gray tom with yellow eyes

DAISYSKY  
Reddish brown tabby she-cat

NIMBLEFOOT  
Wiry brown tom with darker markings 

LIGHTWING  
Very pale gray tom

SHYCLOUD  
Pale tabby she-cat  
APPRENTICE, Stormpaw

EAGLEFLOWER  
Pale she-cat, striped with black

BLIZZARDRUNNER  
Lithe white tom

ROBINWHISKER  
Brown and white tortoiseshell she-cat

PIGEONTAIL  
Pale gray tom with darker specks

SMOKEWIND  
Dark gray tom 

MAPLEHAWK  
Light brown tabby she-cat

APPRENTICES 

STORMPAW  
Dark gray tom with yellow eyes

BEEPAW  
Dark brown tabby tom with blue eyes

CLOVERPAW  
Dark brown tabby she-cat with blue eyes

TWISTPAW  
Dark tortoiseshell she-cat

QUEENS 

MOTHDUSK  
Rose cream she-cat, mother of Nimblefoot’s kits: Meadowkit, Brightkit, Rushkit and Springkit

WASPSTRIPE  
Dark brown tabby she-cat, pregnant with Lightwing's kits

ELDERS 

MOTTLEWISH  
Dappled tortoiseshell she-cat

SAGEGAZE  
White she-cat with ginger patches

ALDERTHROAT  
Pale tabby tom with blind, white eyes

RIVERCLAN

LEADER 

ICESTAR  
Small white she-cat with a long, gray tail

DEPUTY 

DAYHEART  
Yellow tabby she-cat with blue eyes  
APPRENTICE, Lakepaw

MEDICINE CAT 

DUCKFEATHER  
Gray and ginger tom

WARRIORS 

SPLASHCLOUD  
Smoky gray tom with black stripes

DUSTDAWN  
Brown and white tabby she-cat with yellow eyes  
APPRENTICE, Puddlepaw

PIKEHEART  
Muscular brown and white tabby tom 

OTTERNOSE  
Silver tabby she-cat with large blue eyes  
APPRENTICE, Driftpaw

SKIPWING  
Fluffy black she-cat 

CROWFLIGHT  
Black tom  
APPRENTICE, Cherrypaw

SEEDFOOT  
Gray she-cat with white legs

ASHPOPPY  
Gray she-cat with yellow eyes

FLOWERHEART  
Pale ginger tabby she-cat  
APPRENTICE, Ripplepaw

SCORCHWIND  
Ginger tom with black patches

APPRENTICES 

LAKEPAW  
Pale gray she-cat

DRIFTPAW  
Dark gray tom

RIPPLEPAW  
Black and gray tom

PUDDLEPAW  
Dappled brown and white she-cat

CHERRYPAW  
White she-cat with a brown tabby tail

QUEENS 

SWANFLOWER  
Pure white she-cat, mother of Splashcloud’s kits: Petalkit and Wolfkit

SPECKLEFISH  
Pale gray she-cat speckled with black, mother of Crowstem’s kit: Mallowkit

ELDERS 

DARKWHISKER  
Dark brown she-cat with a gray muzzle


	2. come lie with my bones

Deerpaw watched with clouded eyes as Redthistle, his mentor, smoothed down the tabby fur on his mother- on what used to be his mother, at least. She had perished from the same mysterious disease that had already taken most of his clanmates- a medicine cat from RiverClan, Duckfeather, had started calling it blackcough.

His littermate, Briarpaw, shivered beside him and let out a low moan. Just moments ago they both stood, stiff-legged with horror, as their mother twitched and shook through her last breaths. There was no amount of herbs that could stop the disease, but Deerpaw still felt as though he had failed.

“This is chamomile and lavender,” Redthistle murmured through a mouthful of fragrant herbs. “If you want to, you can smooth this into her pelt before we go.” His mentor was being unusually gentle- the medicine cat was usually stressed these days, and constantly pacing around trying to stop the siege of cats from dying. 

His mother, Swallowsong, was the first to die since Amberstar lost his last life half a moon ago. Redthistle had optimistically stated earlier that the maybe the illness had finally run its course- that after the death of so many ThunderClan cats, maybe Swallowsong could pull through and they could put this all behind them.

ThunderClan stopped doing vigils for the dead once there were too many bodies, and the risk of spreading the disease became too high. They were deposited in hollow logs or under dry bramble bushes, far outside the scent markings, where only the badgers would find them. 

So after a bone-numbing night of waiting for Pebblestripe and Applefoot, the warriors chosen to dispose of Swallowsong’s body, to come back, Deerpaw watched the sun come up in shades of pink and red on his first day without his mother.

“I’ll take care of you,” Briarpaw bravely meowed from where she sat beside him. “I’ll make sure you won’t get hurt.”

Swallowsong should be doing that! But Deerpaw kept his mouth shut and said nothing, only pressing his nose into his sister’s shoulder.

He could smell Screechfur before he saw her, and turned around expectantly. There was intense sorrow in her eyes, and distantly he remembered that Screechfur and his mother were littermates, and that his loss was just another burden on the weary shoulders of the deputy.

Since the death of Amberstar, Screechfur had the responsibility of the entire clan with no name or nine lives to show it- there simply wasn’t enough time or paws to go to the Moonpool. It’s not exactly like we’ve got much of a clan left to lead, though.

“There’s a nice, plump mouse waiting for you if you want it,” Screechfur mewed softly. “You two haven’t eaten.”

Briarpaw dragged her tail listlessly around herself. “Let the kits have it.”

“They've eaten already,” Screechfur insisted. Sure enough, Darkkit and Sedgekit were were fighting over the feather of a thrush, the rest of the kits watching a tail-length away. “Please eat.”

Even through the haze of misery, Deerpaw could feel his sister’s hackles rise. “Stop it, Briarpaw,” he growled.

But Briarpaw didn’t say anything, didn’t spit or hiss, only stormed to the apprentice den and flopped down in her nest. Screechfur watched her go, sickening concern glistening in her yellow eyes, her paws kneading at the ground.

“You don’t have to try be our mother, you know.” Deerpaw found himself growling, feeling surprised even as the words came out of his mouth.

Screechfur froze. 

“Swallowsong-” she stammered, then seemed to gather herself, turning her gaze away from him and directing it somewhere above the stone hollow. “That’s not it, Deerpaw. Look around you.”

At what, exactly? The five clanmates of mine that managed to survive?

“I’ve still got cats to care for. Kits, elders. They all need me. And that includes you, kin or not.” Her yellow eyes were pale, pleading, her dark brown pelt altogether too similar to the one that was buried somewhere outside the territories. Unable to spend another moment talking with the she-cat, Deerpaw decided to head for his nest too.

-

Birchpaw was burying his latest catch- a chaffinch- beneath a clump of ferns when Lilypaw’s white face emerged from amongst the bracken. “Screechfur’s getting her nine lives today,” she gasped breathlessly.

“Today?” Birchpaw mewed, his ears pricking up. He’d begun to assume that it would just never happen, that ThunderClan would just carry on with a deputy and no leader. After all, he mused, Mosspaw, Lilypaw and I have gone on just fine without Thorntail. Thorntail had been their father, their mother Applefoot’s mate, but he’d been one of the first to die when Birchpaw and his littermates were barely a moon old.

“Today.” Lilypaw replied, her tail lashing. “The moon will be full in another sunrise. We can finally show our faces at a gathering with a leader that isn’t half dead.”

Birchpaw snorted. “And who would Screechfur take to the gathering, exactly? It’s not exactly like we’ve got warriors to spare.”

“But we’ve got apprentices to spare.”

He suppressed himself from pointing out that the clan had actually run out of mentors for the apprentices, continuing his path lakeward. “Speaking of, how is Briarpaw doing? Shouldn’t you be back at camp with her?”

Lilypaw trotted after him. “Mosspaw and Pearpaw are with her right now, and besides, we’ve got to be hunting for the elders.” She paused to taste the air, briefly. “Squirrel that way.”

Birchpaw waited with his tail curled over his paws until she came back, the gray-brown body clasped firmly in her jaws. “Fernblossom promised that she would be keeping them company until we got back.”

His sister only shrugged, mouth full of squirrel. 

“You’re completely useless,” he huffed. “Now come, help me collect some moss to put in Deerpaw and Briarpaw’s nest tonight, Uselesspaw.”

He felt a soft paw clout him around the ears, and the muffled sound of the squirrel being buried as he headed to a cleft in some tree roots where the moss grew thick. “Stupidpaw.” Lilypaw murmured, and they began to claw off the moss, their pelts brushing.


	3. sharp, and tart, and red, and deep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm an emotionally vulnerable international baccalaureate student so idk how often i'll be updating but i'll do it as often as i can without failing geography. also, our first look at pearpaw in this chapter :) she's my babeyyyyy

Pearpaw watched Briarpaw’s tortoiseshell flank rise and fall with even, steady breaths. Redthistle had given the grieving apprentice poppy seeds and thyme, and now she was finally asleep. 

There was a rustling sound of bramble shifting, and then soft breath on Pearpaw’s ear. “Deerpaw is still agitated,” said Fernblossom. “Mosspaw is trying to convince him to sleep, but he won’t.”

Pearpaw bent her head and gave Briarpaw a lick between the ears. “Why don’t you bring Deerpaw in here?” she asked. “Maybe he would sleep better next to his sister.”

Fernblossom licked Pearpaw between her own ears. “That’s very thoughtful, dear. I’ll go fetch him now.”

The den was quiet again after her mother left. Pearpaw shuddered at the thought of losing Fernblossom- who would be around to take care of her? She was lucky in the sense that she had only lost her father before she was even born, while her denmate had lost both parents in the span of a few moons. 

Pearpaw doubted Briarpaw and Deerpaw even remembered their father, but being a moon older than both of them, she could recall Beechwing hunting for the sick cats, until he too succumbed to blackcough.

Heartbeats later, Fernblossom reentered the apprentice’s den, this time with Deerpaw being supported between her and Mosspaw. She nudged the Deerpaw towards his sleeping sister, and when he collapsed in the nest, Pearpaw and Fernblossom worked together to tuck the moss over their trembling bodies. 

Fernblossom curled around the two and flicked her tail over their backs. “You go rest and eat, little ones,” she mewed. “I can watch over them now.” Her mother began to groom their pelts.

Despite wanting to make sure Briarpaw and Deerpaw were going to be okay, Pearpaw was relieved for the fresh, newleaf air hitting her in the nose. Swallowfur and Redthistle were talking in urgent, hurried tones by the medicine den, and Dawnwhisker, the clan’s only remaining senior warrior, was reinforcing the thin walls of the nursery.

Aspenleaf and Rushpoppy were sleepily enjoying the weak sunlight as their kits frisked around them. “Make the walls good and thick!” called Aspenleaf, as she fiercely groomed the burrs out of Plumkit’s tail.

There was the patter of light footsteps from above the hollow, and then Birchpaw and Lilypaw’s faces popped out of the thorn tunnel, carrying bundles of moss and fresh-kill respectively. Pearpaw watched as they deposited their collections in the clearing and tasted the air. 

“Where’s Applefoot?” Birchpaw asked. The black and white she-cat was their mother- like Pearpaw, their father had been dead for moons.

Pearpaw padded up to them, flicking her tail. “She’s patrolling the ShadowClan border with Pebblestripe.” The black and white tom pulled a face.

Mosspaw touched his nose affectionately to Birchpaw’s shoulder. “She’s fine, you know.”

Lilypaw was staring past them, at where Screechfur and Redthistle had disappeared into the medicine den. “Screechfur’s going to the Moonpool tonight.” she murmured.

The fur on Pearpaw’s shoulders bristled with surprise. “To get her nine lives?” she asked.

Lilypaw mrrowed in amusement. “Yeah, and it took her long enough!”

Mosspaw drew his tail across his sister’s muzzle, effectively quieting her. “Shh. Rushpoppy is still grieving for Ambermoon.”

The gray queen was still dozing outside the nursery, purring intermittently as a bevy of squealing kits chased her tail. “She doesn’t look that upset,” noted Pearpaw. “Amberstar was sick for ages, and after all, three of her four kits are still alive.”

The death of Stripekit came as no surprise to anyone, being the weakest in the litter, but Sedgekit, Ivykit and Dapplekit were healthy, and big for their three moons. Privately, Pearpaw hoped she would be made a warrior soon, so she could mentor one of the three once they reached six moons. By the time Pearpaw herself was old enough to be an apprentice, there simply weren’t enough warriors to go round, but according to Fernblossom, once every single apprentice was given formal training from a senior warrior.

Ivykit, Pearpaw’s favourite of the three, came running up, her stubby gray tail stuck up in excitement. “Did you bring that squirrel for me to play with?” she squeaked, claws already outstretched for the fluffy body of the prey.

“Don’t be silly,” purred Pearpaw. “They caught the squirrel to eat. It goes against the warrior code to play with fresh-kill.”

The kit scowled. “Rushpoppy lets me play with her mouse tails.”

Lilypaw rolled her green eyes, clearly having no patience for the kit. “Is Deerpaw asleep?” she demanded. “I think I’ve got a thorn stuck in my pad somewhere.”

“He’s sleeping-” Pearpaw began, until a tremulous cry sounded behind them.

The apprentices simultaneously turned their heads towards the apprentice’s den, where Deerpaw’s sleepy voice was emitting from the cave. “Swallowsong?” The medicine cat apprentice, who until recently had been so sharp, sounded as small and as scared as a kit.

Fernblossom answered instead. “Quiet now, little one.”

Even Ivykit’s face dropped, and they stood together in the quiet, until Screechfur leapt onto the Highledge. 

“May all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the High-ledge for a clan meeting!” she yowled. The sun, which was beginning to dip towards the horizon, made her dark brown pelt glow.

Pebblestripe and Applefoot’s thundering footsteps signalled their entrance into the camp, each carrying two mice by the tails. “What’s happening?” mumbled Applefoot around her mouthful. 

“Clan meeting,” mewed Mosspaw, looking delighted at the sight of plump mice.

Once the clan (what was LEFT of the clan, Pearpaw thought) was gathered in the clearing, Screechfur spoke. “Tonight I will be travelling to the Moonpool to share tongues with StarClan and receive my nine lives.” The deputy meowed all of this confidently, which surprised Pearpaw, for some reason. 

“Screechstar! Screechstar!” squealed Ivykit, which made Sedgekit and Dapplekit jump around in joy. Rushpoppy looked vaguely pained, which prompted Aspenleaf to give the kits a cuff around the ears. 

“Do they even know that Amberstar was their father?” murmured Lilypaw out of the corner of her mouth.

Screechfur dipped her head to the pretty queen. “I’m sure we all have been grieving Amberstar- some of us more than others, perhaps. And even with the death of Swallowsong darkening our skies today, I promise to lead ThunderClan back to our former glory!”

-

The world was spinning, and full of shadows. Deerpaw was stood in the midst of it all, as freezing wind filled his ears with a roar. “Swallowsong?” he meowed frantically, unable to find his mother. “Swallowsong?!”

The roaring got louder, until Deerpaw could barely stand with the force of it all. “Swallowsong, where are you?” he yowled.

He awoke with a gasp, his heart pounding frantically against his chest. He was in the apprentice’s den, curled up in a nest with Briarpaw and Fernblossom. The air was stifling warm, from the other bodies that also filled the den- judging by the pale light filtering in through the entrance, Deerpaw had slept through the whole day and most of the night and it was already dawn the next day. 

He untangled himself from the two she-cats and made his way into the hollow, desperate to clear his head and get back to the quiet of the medicine den where he could let the fog seep away.

The camp was quiet, everyone still tucked away in their dens, but when Deerpaw reached his own, Redthistle’s nest was empty, his scent stale. He’d been gone since the day before, sundown at least. Deerpaw only let him feel the disappointment for a moment before he walked towards where they kept their supply of herbs. After all, there was work to do.

He was paw deep in sorting withered borage leaves from fresh ones when a yowl cut through the morning air. 

“They’re back!” It was Lilypaw’s voice, excited and breathless.

“Who?” Deerpaw muttered under his breath, making his way into the clearing. Most of the apprentices were up now, and all the warriors were lined up outside their dens, gazing wide eyed at the entrance. 

“Meet your new clan leader,” meowed Redthistle grimly. “Screechstar.”

The dark brown tabby she-cat raised her head high as the clan chanted her name.


	4. when you were gone i turned to stone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bitchpaw and his bitchy siblings have a little #storytime from my fav elder in this chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> life update: i'm a gay furry and so are these fuckin cats

Birchpaw paced a circle round his nest before settling into the cozy scoop, yawning. Since Screechstar had arrived back from the Moonpool, she had kept them all busy running errands around the camp. Birchpaw had been stuck with collecting herbs for Redthistle, as Deerpaw still wasn’t up for returning to his duties. Birchpaw gave one of his sore claws a lick- he’d been clawing shreds of alder bark until he swore his paws would fall off.

Beside him, Mosspaw and Lilypaw were sleepily grooming each other’s pelts. Their white fur blended together, making them look like an unmelted snowdrift. On his other side, Briarpaw was curled up in her own nest. He could only tell she was awake by the way her yellow eyes glistened in the lowlight.

The tortoiseshell she-cat was so pretty that it sometimes made Birchpaw’s chest ache. But now his denmate seemed more detached from him than ever- while the clan had slowly perished from sickness, hadn’t they patrolled and mourned together? She used to press right up against him while they slept, but Swallowsong’s death seemed to have broken her completely. 

Applefoot’s patched face emerged from the shadows. “Why aren’t you scruffians asleep yet?”

Birchpaw perked his head up happily. “Applefoot!” His mother always seemed too busy to spend much time with him and his littermates now- more often than not, Fernblossom was the one to take them out to practise their battle skills.

Applefoot took it in turn to nuzzle Birchpaw and his littermates, and touched her nose lightly to Briarpaw’s head. “Make sure you all have a good rest before moonhigh,” Applefoot meowed. “Don’t forget, that’s when Screechstar said she would announce our new deputy.”

Birchpaw scowled at her. “How am I supposed to sleep knowing that? It’s exciting!”

“I’ve brought Springwillow with me to tell you all a story,” Applefoot placated, blinking at him fondly. “That’ll settle you down.”

With a last nuzzle to Birchpaw’s ear, his mother backed out of the den to make room for Springwillow to enter.

The white elder was his mother's mother, and had always been a positive force around the camp, even with the death of so many of her clanmates. She always told the best stories, much better ones than Moleheart, the clans only other elder.

“Move over Mosspaw, make some room for an old cat like me,” Springwillow mewed cheerfully. Mosspaw rolled over to show his belly, paws wagging like a kit.

“Where’s Pearpaw?” Lilypaw fretted. “If you’re going to tell us a story, she’ll want to hear it too.”

Briarpaw’s eyes flashed in the gloom. “She’s on the dusk patrol with Fernblossom.”

Something sparked like a flame in Birchpaw’s chest at the sound of her voice. He hadn’t really spoken to her all day, assuming she was too exhausted by grief to bother with, but here she was, sharp as ever. 

“I’m sure Pearpaw won’t mind,” Springwillow meowed briskly, tucking her paws beneath herself.. “Now, what would you like to hear about, little ones?”

Lilypaw’s green eyes were as round as the moon. “Tell us about ThunderClan before blackcough,” she begged. That was their favourite story of late- hearing about the powerful and healthy clan that had once been just a few short moons ago.

Springwillow was indulgent as ever, despite the fact she had told this story countless times. “Well… Our leader was a cat named Cinderstar. Her fur was as dark as night-”

“-And she lead ThunderClan with the fury of a tiger.” Birchpaw muttered under his breath. he was sure he could recite this story backwards by now.

“-And she lead thunderclan with a fury of a tiger.” Springwillow purred with relish. “We were the strongest out of all the clans, with Amberleaf as our deputy, until the fateful day that Cinderstar fell ill. One by one, like mice in the cold, her lives fell away, until-”

“You’ve told this one way too many times, Springwillow,” Mosspaw whined, rudely interrupting the elder’s tale. “Tell us a different one. Tell us a story about our father!”

Springwillow had the grace to not look offended. “Well, your father was a very noble warrior,” she mewed. “Thorntail was smart and strong, and I’d always approved of Applefoot’s choice in mate.” 

“He died before we were born, right?” Birchpaw asked.

Springwillow lowered her white head in grief. “Yes. We didn’t even know Applefoot was expecting kits yet, but it was a hard blow to take all the same.” She lifted her gaze to purr warmly at Birchpaw and his littermates. “I see so much of him in you three, especially you, Birchpaw. You’ve always been determined.” She turned her steady gaze onto him, and Birchpaw ducked his head in embarrassment. Cats were always comparing him to his dead father, even though he knew his black and white pelt moreso resembled his mother. He couldn’t be completely certain, but he was pretty sure that Thorntail had fur the colour of bracken.

“But I bet he couldn’t catch a hawk like Birchpaw did!” Mosspaw insisted, his wide green eyes also fixing on his littermate. 

“That was just a big pheasant.” Birchpaw muttered, his pelt burning with embarrassment. He hadn’t even meant to catch the stupid bird- it had practically fallen into his claws and scared the fur off him while he was having a drink at the stream that separated ThunderClan and WindClan’s territories.

Springwillow’s whiskers twitched in amusement. “Thorntail really did catch a hawk once.” she meowed.

“Really?” Lilypaw breathed. 

“Really. He was no older than you were, and in he comes, dragging this enormous bird in his jaws. Moleheart, who was his mentor back then, was so proud he could barely walk.”

“What was my father like?” Briarpaw asked, her voice a croaking mew.

“Oh, Beechwing? He was a big, fine, tom. He was the son of one of our long ago deputies, Palebrook.” Springwillow purred. Birchpaw could just about picture Beechwing in the depths of his memory- a handsome, thick-furred dark tabby, splotched with white, carrying mice into the nursery. “You’d never seen such shoulders on a cat. We all grieved so much when he died, especially since you were all just kits- but of course, by then, we had grown used to our cats leaving us to join StarClan.”

Briarpaw flicked her ear impatiently. “Am I like him at all?”

Springwillow ran her tail down the she-cat’s flank. “You remind me of your mother,” she mewed softly. “But Deerpaw’s got enough chest and shoulder to knock down all the trees from here to the lake.”

Mosspaw once again interrupted the moment with a yawn, showing a set of sharp, white teeth. “And what about Pearpaw’s father? Who was he? Fernblossom’s never mentioned any tom.” 

The elder stiffened from where she had been laying beside Birchpaw, which made his ears prick up. Springwillow was always such a laid back cat, but now she looked like she had just swallowed a bit of crowfood.

“Pearpaw’s father wasn’t.. around by the time she was born.” Springwillow seemed to be choosing her words very carefully. “But it’s besides the point. Fernblossom was the only parent she ever knew, just like all of you and Applefoot.” 

“And Swallowsong.” Briarpaw growled.

Springwillow seemed glad to have a distraction, a cat to fuss over. “Of course, dear.” she purred indulgently, and she tucked the tortoiseshell apprentice deeper into the nest.


End file.
